Pegasus In Space

Four days later, when the weather satellites reported the abatement of the monsoon, additional relief personnel and supplies were airlifted in and the work of mopping up began. Despite urgent entreaties from their section bosses on the Padrugoi Station, and outright threats and rantings from Commissioner Ludmilla Barchenka, the team did not rush back.

The injured were cared for, the homeless were sheltered, the hungry fed, and the bedraggled clothed. The most needy towns were supplied with food, fresh water, and seed. Fortunately, the extremely fertile soil of Bangladesh could produce two crops a year-with any luck-so there might still be a harvest later in the year. While the weather had certainly been unlucky around the world, it was late October and perhaps the monsoons were over.

Among the homeless, the orphans were assigned to the various facilities, examined, registered, and, depending on their ages and abilities, given such community tasks in the center as their age suggested. The child who had been rescued from the Jamuna, was sent to an orphanage just south of Bogra. The local industry of hat-making made use of the nimble fingers of the older children and their employment was carefully monitored by a telepath, Bahadur Ali Shan. He came as often as he could, when the press of duties permitted, but, as he had never seen any abuse or a shadow of it in the minds of the industrious and generally happy children, he did not worry too much when the floods enlarged the orphanage complement considerably

The orphan girl from a small shomiti outside of Siradjganj was judged to be four or five years of age. The broken arm that was mentioned on the tag carefully written by Shikkhika Rupoti at the shomiti did not appear on the X ray taken at the Bogra medical center during the routine examination. A greenstick fracture of the ulna was visible but the injury was so well healed that the splint and bandage were superfluous. If anyone noticed that the little girl kept stroking her left arm over the site of the old break, they did not mention it. The tag stated that the child was unknown to anyone in the shomiti. The examining physician found her uncommonly well grown and well nourished, but noted that she did not speak.

Possibly this is due to the trauma of her recent experience in the flood-waters. But attempts should be made to encourage her to speak. She hasn't got a cleft palate, she's not speech-impaired, and there is no physiological reason why she is incapable of speech, read the medical report.

The nuns at the orphanage gently tried to wheedle her name out of her but she only regarded them with wide eyes. A child of four or five should remember its own name.

"They're a deep blue, you know," Sister Epiphania said. "Not brown."

"Oh dear," said Sister Kathleen. A child of mixed races by no means shocked her for all they had both thought her Bangladeshi. She peered at the delicate features-so many Bangladeshi children were beautiful. Some subtlety of feature and physique made her feel that, whatever she was, the child was not half-caste. "Well, she's a child of God. We'd better give her a name."

Sister 'Phania considered this, laying a callused forefinger athwart her lips in thought. "Zada? That means lucky."

"You're assuming she is Bengali?"

"Well, yes. The report says that the bandage around her arm had been torn from a sari. And look at her black hair!"

Sister Kathleen held a strand out, before tucking it back over the child's shoulder. "What about Jamuna as a name? She was plucked from it, after all."

"Not at all," 'Phania said, pressing her lips together.

"Kalinda? Because she came from the river?"

"Hmm." That didn't seem appropriate to 'Phania either.

"If we go to a floral name, remember we already have two Lilas. You wouldn't like Kusa for grass? After all," and Kathleen pointed to the little patch of ground, neatly fenced off with twigs, which had absorbed the little girl once she had finished helping to weed the kitchen garden, "she's clearly interested in growing things. Maybe a farmer's child?"

"Ruchi?" 'Phania suggested, "since that means taste?"

"Hmm." Kathleen deliberated a moment, then shook her head.

"Rudra? That, I think, is for the rudrakha plant."

"I want something that's her," and Kathleen smoothed the girl's hair back and smiled with success. "Shaila," she said emphatically. "It means small mountain."

Kathleen squatted down beside the newly named child. "Say Shaila, dear. That's your name." The deep blue eyes regarded her calmly. "Let me hear you say Shaila, dear?"

"Shy… Ia." The light voice stumbled.